


Pen Friends

by littlelionsloves



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dan really sucks at actually writing back, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Pen Pals, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:13:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelionsloves/pseuds/littlelionsloves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dan has to move away at the end of year 11, leaving his best friend Phil behind they promise to keep in touch the old fashioned way - through letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first phanfic I ever wrote, please go easy on me :P happy reading! ^.^ it's in Dan's POV btw

We were walking home from our last ever day of school before our exams, each holding an ice lolly we'd bought from the corner shop next to school as a sort of farewell to the summer tradition we'd had for so long.

While Phil knew this was the last time we'd get them as part of our tradition, he didn't know we wouldn't be getting a replacement tradition. He still thought we'd be going to the same college and that we'd have time to find a new tradition just for us. Only we didn't have time.

I looked over at him walking next to me, happily talking about the film we'd seen in the double art lesson we'd had that morning because we'd done our art exam already and hadn't felt like revising, and my heart constricted a bit. I didn't even fully pay attention to what he was saying, just let myself take in everything about the way he talked, how he gestured with his hands and pausing every other sentence to lick the ice lolly again.

_You need to tell him._

I ignored my mental voice and pushed the guilty feeling to the back of my mind. I would tell him, just not yet. I really didn't want to spoil the end of a really good day together, so I'd tell him later.

I turned my attention away from my internal struggles and back to Phil, only realising after a moment of silence as he looked over at me expectantly that he'd asked my a question.

"Huh?"

He laughed and repeated himself. "I wanted to know what you were thinking of doing during study leave. I mean, we have the exact same subjects to study for so we might as well study together, especially since I know you need some help with science and English makes absolutely no sense to me - it's been a year and I still don't know what those poems are on about."

He paused and looked over at me for confirmation, so I nodded quickly, my mind already racing through the different ways I could convince him to have all of the study sessions at his house - it would take him less than a minute to figure out what I was keeping from him if he stepped into my house, and that really wouldn't be the best way for him to find out.

"Ok good," he said, smiling. "If we study in the morning we could go to the park or the cinema a couple of times afterwards as a sort of treat for studying so hard?"

I nodded again, liking this suggestion more, and finished the rest of my ice lolly in a few quick chomps, just as Phil started talking about some sort of sleepover celebration at mine when exams were over, 'because I had the bigger TV'. I almost choked and told him we'd see before falling silent again, hoping he'd start talking about anything again so he wouldn't notice how quiet I was being.

He didn't say anything for a few minutes either, and only spoke when we'd reached his front door, unlocking it as he turned round to talk to me.

"Are you ok? You've been pretty quiet today."

"Hmm? Oh yeah I'm fine."

I forced a smile and looked at the ground, not able to bear looking him in the eye as I lied to him. I could feel his eyes on me but kept studying the welcome mat until he looked away, but as he turned I could have sworn I saw him blush.

"Ok."

I felt my face fall and made a conscious effort to force the corners of my mouth back up into the fake smile I'd just been wearing for his sake.

_See? He doesn't care. You might as well tell him and get it over with._

After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab snacks and something to drink we went through to the living room, where Phil crouched down next to the tv to examine his family's film collection. It took him almost no time at all to pull out Brave, and he turned to look at me with a huge smile that made my heart constrict a little again, waggling the DVD around.

"What better than Disney and Scottish accents to make us forget about exams?"

I laughed and collapsed on the couch, claiming Phil's preferred spot with an evil smile, ready to move as soon as he turned his wide puppy eyes look on me. Instead he just grinned at me and threw himself down on the couch next to me, burrowing under my arm and getting comfortable as I made a token protest, secretly hoping he'd stay right where he was.

While I made an honest effort to pay attention to the film it proved to be a lot harder than expected due to the person I had such a big crush on cuddling against me with my arm wrapped around his shoulders. All of my attention was directed at how nice it felt to have him pressed up so close against me and how my heart was beating rather erratically and the paranoid feeling that he could hear it, all accompanied by a nervous, excited sort of feeling in the pit of my stomach that I always got when I was near him or thinking about him.

Without me fully noticing we got to the end of the film, the bit where it seems like the mother is going to stay a bear forever and when everyone watching starts to panic a little. Phil was no exception, and he suddenly twisted round and buried his face in my chest, wrapping both of his arms around my torso and somehow managing to scoot even closer to me.

He looked up at me to check if I was ok with him being so close, but I kept looking straight ahead, terrified I'd do something like kiss him and have him never talk to me again. Instead I slowly slid my free arm around him and very carefully rested my chin on top of his head, breathing in slowly and deeply to try and steady my heart.

It took me a couple of moments to trace the scent of raspberries that had suddenly engulfed me back to his hair, and when I realised where it was coming from I just had to laugh, making Phil lift his head from my chest again to look up at me quizzically. I did my best to concentrate on answering his silent question rather than on how much I wanted to lean down a tiny bit and kiss him.

"Your hair smells of raspberries."

He blushed a little and hid his face in my t-shirt, and made me chuckle to myself again when he told me to shut up in a muffled voice. I closed my eyes and carefully rested my chin on the top of his head again, concentrating only on the overwhelming feeling of rightness, the feeling that told me I shouldn't ever let him go and that I should just tell him how I felt, the feeling that made me memorize everything about this moment so I could remember it when I needed to.

_You have to tell him!_

I shut my mental voice off again and went back to breathing steadily to try and slow my heart, also trying in vain to ignore the tingles that spread from anywhere I was in contact with him.

I opened my eyes again when I noticed the music getting happier, and for the first time I felt disappointed that the sad part of the film had passed - it meant I'd have to let go of Phil, an idea that my whole body rebelled against, my arms tightening around him automatically.

"Phil?" I whispered.

"Yeah?"

"It's the happy bit again."

"Oh."

He sounded almost disappointed and a part of my brain went crazy trying to analyse his tone and what it meant. Did he sound disappointed because he didn't want to move further away either? Or had I imagined it and did he not sound sad at all?

Surprisingly, Phil didn't move away, just unwound his arms from around my waist and rearranged himself so he was leaning against my side with my arm still wrapped around his shoulders, one of his arms placed across my stomach and making the nervous happy feeling intensify.

We sat in silence as we watched the scrolling credits, waiting for the short clip right at the end before we declared the film over. I didn't mind - it was an excuse to stay close to Phil, and it almost seemed like he felt the same way, which made my heart leap even as I tried not to get my hopes up again.

When the menu screen came back up I had to admit the film was definitely over and that my excuse to keep my arm around Phil had definiely expired, but I decided to leave it up to him when we ended our cuddling session, not wanting it to end any sooner than it had to.

It took a few moments, but he started extracting himself from my grip, and while the urge to hug him to me and not let him go was almosy impossible to resist I managed it somehow. I instantly missed his warmth and the raspberry scent of his hair that I'd been breathing in almost like a drug. Thankfully, he didn't move very far away, just sat up more and turned a bit to face me, meaning his face was less than a foot away from mine.

He was just so beautiful. I'd felt this way for months and yet I still couldn't look at him without the realisation hitting me again like it was the first time. It was so hard not to tell him how much I loved him, especially when I could barely tear my gaze away from his.

A distant part of my mind told me it would be a good idea to look away now, to start talking about anything that could distract us both from this moment so I wouldn't lean in and kiss him, but when his lips parted a little and he shuffled slightly closer all of the warnings my brain was spitting out at me went out of the window.

I started to lean in a little too, my hearbeat and the butterflies in my stomach going insane, but when his eyes fluttered shut something in me panicked and I backed away fast, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Phil, I'm moving."

He froze, his eyes flying open, and he sat up properly so he was no longer leaning in my direction.

"You're doing what?"

It dawned on me what I'd just admitted to him and what I had managed to ruin, and all I could do was sit there and wish I could take it back, that I could go back and make myself shut the hell up so I could see what could have happened if I hadn't said anything.

"Shit."


	2. Chapter 2

"When?"

It came out as a broken sounding whisper, and I mentally cursed myself over and over for my stupidity, still wishing I could reverse time and hit my past self over the head with a baseball bat before I could say anything.

I looked down at the couch and when I spoke my voice was barely audible, but the deadly silence in the room meant Phil could still hear me easily.

"The day after exams are over. We've already bought a house and we've started packing everything up."

The continued silence on Phil's part made me more nervous and I started to talk just to put an end to the quiet.

"That's why you haven't come round in a while. You would have been able to tell straight away - everything that isn't strictly necessary has been packed up, like photos and other decorations..."

Phil seemed too far gone to register what I was saying and my voice trailed off into nothing, silence falling again. I couldn't really handle it and didn't want to start babbling about nothing again so I fidgeted instead, fussing with a non existent thread on my sleeve, playing with my fingers, running my hands through my hair, anything to avoid looking up at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He whispered it again and he just sounded so hurt that I couldn't help looking up at the catch in his voice, my heart shattering into a million pieces when I did. He was staring hard at his hands, clasped in his lap, and was blinking fast to stop the tears shining in his eyes from spilling over. I felt terrible. Anyone who hurt Phil the way I just had deserved the worst.

"I didn't want to ruin our last few weeks together."

He nodded slowly, then fell silent again. I felt the guilt at hurting Phil start to take over and the back of my eyes stung as tears started to well up. I needed to get out of here before I started crying; I couldn't bear to do that in front of Phil when he obviously already felt crap.

I jumped up, looked at the clock and put on the best cheery voice I could manage, speaking fast and hoping he couldn't hear the tell-tale wobble in my voice.

"Oh is that the time? Well, I really need to get home, my mom will be expecting me for dinner. Um, good luck with the revision and the French exam on Monday if I don't see you before then. See you, bye!"

By the time I'd finished talking I'd already reached the front door and was fumbling with the lock, barely able to see what I was doing because of the tears swimming in my eyes. I could hear Phil scrambling up from the couch and knew I was out of time, twisting the lock desperately and yanking at the door. Miraculously it opened and I slipped out, slamming the door behind me before Phil could get to it.

I hurried down the driveway and turned left sharply, cursing the British weather under my breath for being so temperamental as I wished for a raincoat. Perfectly sunny one minute, raining the next. Typical.

I'd walked past the neighbour's driveway when I heard the door open behind me and Phil calling after me to wait, but I pretended not to hear and walked even faster. Paranoia took over and I could swear I heard gravel crunching, so I ducked my head and ran, doing my best to see where I was going through the tears and the rain and praying I wouldn't run into a lamppost or a postbox on the way.

I didn't care that running away was the weaker choice, I didn't care that if Phil saw me running there'd be no point in hiding how crap I felt and I didn't care that the rain was starting to soak through my clothes. I just wanted to go home, get into bed, go to sleep and leave everything for a future Dan to deal with.

I slowed back down to a fast walk once I was a couple of streets away and got to my house just as I started worrying about getting hypothermia, shivering all over and feeling ice cold despite the surprisingly warm temperature. I'd messed everything up. I'd made Phil hate me, meaning I'd lost the person I was in love with and I had no chance of ever getting him to talk to me again.

Hey, you might as well tell him about the whole thing where you're in love with him. How can it get any worse? You've already made him hate you, why not get it all off your chest while you're at it? You absolute moron.

I tried to unlock my front door a few times, failing miserably because of the damned tears making my vision blur and the sobs that were making my shoulders shake. It didn't take long for me to give up and I banged on the door, hoping mom would open the door quickly so I could get out of the rain.

She appeared in the doorway a few moments later, smile slipping when she saw my face. "Dan? What happened?"

I opened my mouth to answer and realised very quickly that I wasn't in any sort of state to answer that question without breaking down, so I just ducked my head down and pushed past her. Feeling vaguely guilty about all the water I was dripping everywhere, I ran up the stairs to my room and slammed the door shut, throwing myself onto my bed and burying my face in my pillow to muffle the sobs that were forcing their way out.

It took her no time for me to feel part of my mattress dipping down as she sat next to me, rubbing my back soothingly until the sobs quietened a little. Even then she didn't say anything for a few minutes to make sure I was definitely calm.

"What happened?"

"I was an idiot," I grunted, my voice muffled by the pillow so mom had to lean down slightly to catch what I was saying.

"Is it Phil?"

I nodded into the pillow and sniffed a little, then sat up quickly when I realised something.

"Wait, how do you know about Phil? I never told you about."

"Well, it's pretty obvious. I knew just from seeing the way you looked at him and talked about him really."

She patted my arm in a consolatory fashion and grinned when my cheeks started to turn pink. I managed a small smile back, then remembered that Phil hated me and hid my face in the pillow again, wishing I could stop crying at the thought of him. Mom kept rubbing circles on my back and waited patiently for me to calm down again a little.

"So what exactly happened?"

The question made me forget how crap I felt for a moment, the sadness replaced with anger. I sat up quickly and moved away from her.

"I told him we're moving away and he just looked so hurt and I felt awful, and I needed to get out of there before I broke down and it's your fault. It's your fault we're moving away, I never wanted to and you're making me leave him behind! I love him him and you're making me -" I broke off and started sobbing again, bringing my knees up to under my chin and hugging them to myself, shoulders hunched over.

Mom didn't say anything, just moved closer again and pulled me into a hug, rocking me back and forth slowly until I calmed down, stiffening when I realised what I'd just said to her.

"I'm so sorry mom, I shouldn't have said that. It was out of line and I'm sorry, I didn't mean any of it," I whispered, scared my voice would break.

She just hugged me tighter. "It's ok, you're allowed to feel angry about it. I know it's not fair, but I have to for work. Oh, baby, I'm sorry," she whispered back.

"Do you think we can kidnap him?"

Mom laughed, "I don't think so sweetie, sorry, I'd rather our first guest at the new house wasn't a police officer looking for Phil."

She released me and stuck her tongue out at me to show she honestly didn't hold my outburst against me, making me breathe a sigh of relief. I may have lost my best friend but at least I still had my amazing mom.

*****

Mom and I were having a movie night (well, a Sherlock night) in her bed, both snuggled up in separate nests of blankets and pillows, a bowl of popcorn between us. I felt so much better, laughing as we discussed the best techniques for aquiring a Benedict Cumberbatch and a Martin Freeman, making fun of some of her ideas. Then in the middle of our debate of who would be easier to kidnap the doorbell rang and both of us stopped talking, looking towards the door and then at each other, both of us unwilling to get up.

"Shotgun not opening it!" she yelled suddenly, sticking her tongue out at me triumphantly. Having such a childish mom was great most of the time, but it always got a whole lot less great when she used that childishness against me.

I glared at her and climbed out of bed reluctantly, complaining about the cold loudly as I trudged down the stairs. I unlocked the door with a little speech about how they shouldn't knock on people's doors after eight unless it was an emergency all lined up, but when I opened it I forgot all of it immediately.

In front of me was a rain soaked Phil, water dripping from his hood and onto his face, and he looked pretty pissed off.

"We need to talk."


	3. Chapter 3

I stared at him for a moment and seriously considered simply shutting the door in his face and going back upstairs to continue watching Sherlock. I was about to do it when the reasonable part of my brain caught up and reminded me that slamming the door in his face wouldn't help with getting him not to hate me, so I reluctantly stepped aside and let him in.

He stopped dead two steps into the hallway, staring around him at the bare walls and the stacks of cardboard boxes along one side that narrowed the hallway down considerably.

I took a deep breath and spoke, hoping my voice would stay steady. "I told you you'd be able to tell."

He ignored me and marched into the living room without a word. I shut the front door and followed him, only to see him standing still again in the middle of the room, looking around at the furniture that had been pushed against the walls to clear space for the boxes in the middle of the room. I could see the photos that had previously occupied the mantelpiece sticking out of one of the boxes, the one on top one of my parents hugging and laughing into the camera.

I fiddled nervously with the hem of my t-shirt and looked down at the floor, not wanting to see the expression on his face as he took it all in.

"Do you... Would you like something to drink?"

"No," he said, his voice cold. I risked a glance up and flinched when I saw that all the warmth I usually saw in his eyes had gone as they bored into mine accusingly. I looked down again and wrapped my arms around myself as I tried to keep myself together.

" _Five years_ Dan. Almost five years we've been friends, I actually thought best friends, and yet you didn't tell me. Do you have any idea how much that _hurts_?"

His voice broke on the last word and I rushed over to him without thinking, pulling him into a hug. Phil melted into my arms and turned his face into my neck, hugging me back just as tightly.

Suddenly he let go of me and pulled away from me, gripping my shoulders with a fiercely determined look in his eyes.

"We're staying in touch, ok? You have no choice."

"Ok," I said, smiling a little as I reached up to wipe a single tear on his cheek away.

He sniffed a little, then took a deep breath and smiled at me, the smile only looking a little faked.

"I don't have Facebook or Twitter or anything like that and I know you hardy ever use your phone so I was thinking we could try doing it the old fashioned way. We could be pen friends!"

I laughed and shook my head. "You do realise there's been this great new invention called email right? Electronic mail? The exact same thing but faster."

He glared at me and huffed a little, crossing his arms and pouting childishly.

"Yes I do know about it, I just thought letters would be more personal. We'd be able to give each other long updates on life and stuff ad I've just never done it before so I thought it would be fun, but we don't have to if you think it's stupid."

"I never said I didn't want to, I was just telling you that there is email in case you just hadn't thought of it. And we need to Skype tonnes, deal?"

He smiled, genuinely this time. "Deal."

I pulled him into another hug and whispered, "You _are_ my best friend, and you always will be."

"You too."

He hugged me tighter and I buried my nose in his neck, breathing in his scent and letting the feeling of rightness wash away the worry and sad feeling of loss. I wasn't leaving just yet, and I'd make sure we spent as much time as possible together before I did, but I already missed him.

"That tickles!"

He giggled and pulled away a little, grinning at me. I let him go and laughed it off, but secretly I felt a little sad that I'd had to let him go already. I'd rather have kept hugging him forever.

_See? Told you he doesn't feel the same way._

*****

Phil came round almost every day to study in between the piles of of cardboard boxes, and if we'd just had an exam we went to his to play video games or watch a film, anything that involved spending time together. We spent barely any time apart.

Then before we knew it, the exams were over and we were walking home together for the last time. I'd had my big emotional farewell with Chris and Peej after the exam and promises to keep in touch had been exchanged, but while I'd definitely miss them, it didn't even begin to come close to how much I'd miss Phil.

He turned to me with a forced looking smile and decided we needed to do something special for our last time walking home together. We looked at each other for a couple of seconds, trying to think of something, and then both of us stopped walking at the same time and half shouted  _Shakeaway_ at the same time, laughing loudly.

We walked into town and got our usual orders, then headed to the park where we sat down on the swings with our drinks and talked about nothing in particular, neither of us wanting to bring up the fact that I was leaving in less that 24 hours.

We laughed a lot but there was an underlying feeling of desperation, both of us knowing that our last proper day together was quickly ending. Eventually we ran out of umimportant topics to talk about, so we sat in comfortable silence for a while before Phil turned to me and cleared his throat.

"So when do you leave?"

"Well, tomorrow," I said, keeping my tone light and desperately trying to avoid bursting into tears.

"I know that you spoon, I meant what time!"

He elbowed me gently in the side and smiled encouragingly.

"Probably between 9 and 10."

His face fell a little, any ideas he'd had of us spending the day together gone. He brightened again, apparently having thought of a new plan.

"Ok, I'll come round early so I can help a bit and say goodbye."

I smiled and agreed, standing up from the bench and offering him a hand to pull him up so we could go home. We walked back slowly, talking about unimportant things again, but we still reached my front door in no time. I couldn't help but feel a little like he was walking me home at the end of a date, so when I turned at the front door and smiled at him my heart started beating faster as I imagined kissing him goodbye.

"I need to go home, my parents will be waiting for me for dinner."

I nodded and waited for him to do something, rooted to the spot and unable to move until he did. The space between us had started to feel all charged and after another moment he stepped closer, the urge to grab him and kiss him senseless almost overpowering me. Almost.

He pulled me in for a long hug and I unfroze, winding my arms around his waist and hugging him closer, trying to memorise the feeling of his arms around me, the silky feeling of his hair against my cheek and the raspberry smell of it, and I let myself believe for just a few moments that he was doing the same.

The moment ended too soon, but when he let me go he paused a moment before stepping back and kissed my cheek, almost shyly, before muttering that he'd see me tomorrow and leaving. I watched him go in a daze, lifting my hand to my cheek. He'd never done that before, so maybe it was a sign he felt the same? Cheesy as it sounded, my cheek felt like it was tingling and I thanked my lucky stars he wasn't there because if he saw the huge smile spreading over my face he would definitely have guessed.

I turned slowly and opened the door, still not really paying attention to what I was doing, my thoughts focused only on Phil. I ate dinner without knowing what I was eating and went to bed straight after, knowing I had to get up early tomorrow and feeling mentally worn out. For the first time in weeks I went to sleep without worrying about the move at all.

*****

**Phil's POV**

I woke up to the morning light filtering in through my curtains and I rolled over sleepily to look at the alarm clock, wanting to know if I could afford to continue sleeping or not; a habit I'd had for years. I squinted at the red numbers until they came into focus, telling me it was just before nine. I could sleep some more.

I closed my eyes and was starting to drift off when an important bit of memory resurfaced.

_"Probably between 9 and 10"_

_"Ok, I'll come round early so I can help a bit and say goodbye."_

I bolted upright and looked at the clock again, seriously hoping it was secretly 7am. No such luck, the alarm clock clearly said 9:03. I groaned and jumped out of bed, stumbling to my closet as I fought a sudden head rush, opening it and leaning against the wall to stop myself from collapsing as I grabbed a random pair of dark skinny jeans and t-shirt.

Thankfully I'd gone to sleep in only my boxers so I grabbed a clean pair and dressed quickly, pulling my t-shirt over my head as I walked through to the bathroom where I swirled some mouthwash around my mouth, not bothering with brushing my teeth or deodorant. I splashed water in my face and ran downstairs, grabbing my keys and running my hands through my hair in front of the hallway mirror before leaving the house.

I checked my phone as I half ran down my road, and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw I'd left only four minutes after realising I was running late. They might not have left yet.

I put my phone away and concentrated on getting to Dan's house as quickly as possible, sending up a silent thanks that it was a Thursday, meaning there was almost no-one there to see me running down streets with a tomato red face and already starting to sweat thanks to the warm day.

I got to Dan's road at 9:16 and slowed down a little, fanning myself with one hand and willing my face to go back to it's usual paleness so I'd look at least a tiny bit presentable when I said goodbye.

I walked up his drive slowly, feeling like something wasn't quite right but not able to put my finger on what exactly. It was only when my finger was hovering over the buzzer that I saw the white piece of paper on the mat, held down by a small pebble from the driveway.

I felt the small pit of dread in my stomach grow as I bent down and picked it up, throwing the pebble back to where it had come from. My hands shook slightly as I unfolded the sheet of paper, and I tried to tell myself that I was panicking for no reason. This could easily just be a couple of instructions for the cleaning lady who was coming by later.

When I saw my name written at the top in Dan's messy left handed scrawl however the idea died fast, and it took a few calming breaths for me to be able to concentrate on the words enough to read them.

_Dear Phil,_   
_There was a slight change in plan and we left around 8. Sorry for not calling or something to tell you but I figured you could use the extra sleep so yeah._

_So I guess this is letter number one of the series. To be honest I don't really know what to say. I thought I would and there's actually so much floating around in my head that I want you to know but I can't think of a way to put in into words._

_I think what I really want you to know is that you've been an amazing friend to me and as you said on the last day of school, you'd better keep in touch, ok? You have no choice._

_I've got to go now, so goodbye Phil, and I hope to hear from you soon. :)_

_Love,_   
_Dan :) x_

I read the letter again and again and slowly sank down to sit on the mat, my back against the door, staring at the empty driveway. I finally knew what had made me feel so uneasy - the car was gone.

_He_ was gone. I hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye. I felt tears gathering in my eyes and leaking out of the corners, slipping down my face as I tried to deal with the immense feeling of loss.

_Goodbye Dan. I know I never told you this, but I love you. I wanted to say it before but I guess I missed my chance now. I love you Dan._

_I love you._


	4. Chapter 4

“Dan, wake up.”

Someone was shaking my shoulder and I grumbled a little, pushing their hand away so I could continue sleeping. The hand persisted though, and kept coming back to continue trying to shake me awake until I opened my eyes groggily to glare at whoever had thought it would be a good idea to wake me up.

“We’ve arrived.”

It took a moment for that to registed in my sleep fogged mind, but when it did I suddenly felt a whole lot more awake and sat up, stretching and almost hitting mom in the face as I did. She slapped my hand away lightly and stepped out of the car to get the two suitcases we’d be living from until the moving truck arrived from the trunk. I followed her out and grabbed one before she started heaving both to the house and looked around me, taking everything in.

I’d never been here before as I’d been in school when mom had come to see it, so it was all pretty new to me. When I’d thought of this moment I’d expected to hate it all, and even while looking around at my new neighbourhood I thought I should hate it. I hadn’t anticipated the excitement that was bubbling up as I looked around at the similar two story houses that lined the street, and it unsettled me a little. I was supposed to be missing _home_.

The house had a decently sized front yard, surrounded by a very low brick wall with a narrow path cutting through the short grass to the front door. The garage was attached to the house with a parking space in front of it, so it would likely be used as extra storage. I hated even thinking it but I actually kind of liked the new house with its light blue door and white walls.

I lifted my suitcase over the low wall and took a shortcut across the grass, walking to the front door hastily and turning to lean against it as I pretended to check my watch.

“Well it took you long enough,” I teased mom when she arrived at the front door, making her laugh and roll her eyes at me.

“What are you, three?”

“Four actually,” I retorted, and she laughed again, ruffling my hair and playfully shoving me out of the way so she could unlock the door.

She stepped back and curtsied awkwardly, one hand still holding onto the suitcase and the other waving me in. I grinned at her and walked in, eyes darting around to take everything in.

I was looking a fairly wide hallway with bare walls and a wood floor, the boards stretching down the hall lengthwise to the kitchen. The stairs were on the left with two doors in the side, probably a cupboard and maybe a small toilet, plus another two doors on the right.

I dumped my bag and walked into the kitchen, noticing that it was actually an open plan kitchen and dining room, which led into the living room. I opened the living room door and ended up back in the hallway, grinning to myself as the child in me realised I would be able to run around in circles. Not that I’d ever do that though. I was way too mature for that.

Mom saw me smiling around me stupidly and poked her tongue out at me, clearly glad to see me looking happy about our new house.

“It’s a nice house isn’t it?”

I hesitated a little, then nodded. I might as well get used to it, and I would at least pretend to like it for mom’s sake, though I didn’t think pretending would be hard. I really did like the new house, I just happened to prefer the old one, the one where Phil only lived a few streets away and I actually knew people.

I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind and leaned forwards to open the tiny door under the stairs, laughing when I saw the miniscule space underneath. It was clearly meant for shoes but I couldn’t help but remember a similar space in Phil’s hoise where he’d told me he used to have a den when he was younger.

I turned to my mom and pointed at the space excitedly. “Mine!”

She shook her head at me and raised an eyebrow. “Sweetie, what would you even want to do with it?”

“It’s gonna be my new den.” I crossed my arms and tried to look authoritative, knowing that I’d failed miserably when she burst out laughing.

“Pouting at me isn’t going to magically shrink you, you numpty. You don’t even fit in there!”

I immediately dropped to the floor and scooted in backwards, bowing my head so I wouldn’t bang it against the admittedly very low door frame. I felt my back hit the wall in no time and realised she was right - I was bent double in a very uncomfortable position and my legs were still sticking out with no way for me to get them in.

“Crap.”

She looked at me like she really felt sorry for me and I mock scowled back at her. I shuffled out from under the stairs and tried to keep as much of my dignity as possible as I stood up and brushed dust from my jeans, then stuck my nose in the air and walked out of the back door in the kitchen to the garden.

I had to give it to the previous owners - they were definitely a lot better at gardening than we were. The garden was surrounded by high, neatly clipped hedges and had a few big trees at the bottom, with a nice stone patio with steps leading down to the main garden. It was perfect for barbecues. There were also flowers that had been planted around the patio, adding some more colour to the rich green of the trees and the lighter green of the grass.

I bounded down the steps and threw myself down onto the grass, lying spreadeagled and staring up and the few clouds that drifted lazily across the blue sky. I still preferred the deeper blue of Phil’s eyes.

_You need to forget about him. Stop thinking about him._

I didn’t want to forget him though.

Mom walked out onto the patio with an evil looking smile and waited for a few moments before speaking.

“I’m quite sure the last owners had a dog, so I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

I was on my feet and inspecting myself for traces of dog poo in a matter of seconds, and clearly my reaction was exactly what she’d been hoping for because she burst out laughing.

“Only joking, they had a goldfish - they didn’t really trust their daughter with a pet much bigger than that just yet.”

I scowled at her and she happily stuck her tongue out at me again, disappearing back inside with a cheery wave. I followed her in slowly and realised there was still a whole other floor I hadn’t explored yet, so I raced past her and ran up the stairs, looking for my new room. Mom appeared at the stairs just as I was about to open the door closest to me, and her tone made me stop and turn around to look at her.

“About your room, I think I should have warned you…”

She trailed off and looked vaguely worried, so I carefully nudged open the door, braced for the worst.

It wasn’t enough. The sight before me was _horrific_.

I turned back to my mom, unsure how to go about expressing just how determined I was to get out of living in this room.

“No way. Absolutely not. I refuse. _Hell_ no.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to. At least until the decorators come two days from now. You think yours is the only room that got mistreated this way?”

“Nothing can be worse than that. Nothing. Everything is _hot pink,_ mom. I don’t think you realise quite how horrific that is to me. Not even the radiator escaped and they left pink curtains behind! I’ll die if you make me stay in this room! Do you want me to die? Do you have any idea how bad it would look to have that written on my gravestone as the cause of my death?”

I raised my hands to gesture wildly around the room again. “ _Here lies Daniel Howell. He died of shock because his mom made him live in a room where freaking everything was bright pink.”_

“Ok, I’ll admit the colour is atrocious but you do have two pretty nice features as compensation.”

She gestured up at the ceiling with a bright smile. At least, what I had presumed would be the ceiling. There was a sort of balcony in my room, stretching half way across the room with a half hidden ladder bolted to the floor and at the bottom of the balcony. I could feel a huge grin spreading over my face as I realised this would make a far better den than the tiny cupboard under the stairs. I was already imagining a huge beanbag up there with a bookcase, or maybe a TV with my video game collection.

I was distracted from my fantasy by mom nudging me and pointing out the window too, which turned out to have a really good view. I could see into all of our neighbours’ gardens and it was all so green and pretty and I was going to have fun pulling an Aunt Petunia and spying on our new neighbours. The windowsill was wide enough for a window seat, so once all the pink was gone I would be spending a lot of time there with my DS in the sun. I would definitely like this room once it had been repainted.

“Fine, the room is great,” I admitted grudgingly. “But I still refuse to live in it until it’s a bit less… Ew.”

I felt a spark of excitement at the prospect of making this new room mine, despite the small voice in my head reminding me again that I should be hating everything about this place, not feeling excited about living here. I shushed it impatiently - considering I’d be living here until university at least it would probably be better if I tried to like this house.

“As I said before, you’re going to have to deal until the decorators come the day after tomorrow. Come have a look at the bathroom though, you’ll see why I had to hire professionals.”

She led me to the bathroom across the hall from my bedroom and the sight that awaited us there was, once again, horrific. All of the walls were tiled with dark olive green tiles and the sink, toilet and bath were all lime green. I really didn’t like the idea of ever going to the shop that had supplied them with all it. Literally the two only good things about the bathroom were the dark wood floor and the size. Not even the window had come out unscathed; the frame was painted lime green too.

“See what I mean? It’s a miracle my room survived. Well, kind of anyway - it’s got one orange wall. It’s unbelievable how bad some people’s taste is isn’t it?”

I nodded and whimpered unwillingly as I looked around me again. It looked terrible. Mom laughed and we went back downstairs to haul our suitcases up so she could dig out the only DVD collection that we’d taken with us in the car - Sherlock.

“Right, plans for the rest of the day: watch a lot of Sherlock, enthuse about how hot Benedict Cumberbatch is and complain about why Sherlock and John aren’t together, then order takeout for dinner. Agreed?”

I forced myself to smile at her even though I could feel the sort of empty feeling coming back.

“Agreed.”

*****

We ended up having a pretty decent day, despite having to watch Sherlock on my tiny laptop screen on a makeshift couch made of the pillows and duvets we’d taken with us. Mom had found a good fish and chips bar a couple of streets away and we’d eaten our dinner outside in our new garden while laughing at a fat cat that kept trying to steal our food, not even bothering to be subtle about it.

Once we’d eaten dinner we blew up the air mattresses and lay in a comfortable silence with out books for the rest of the evening.

“Night mom.”

“Goodnight sweetie.”

*****

The next few days passed quickly, the decorators and movers invading our house and simultaneously making it look both better and worse. The movers had somehow managed to get our couch in through an upstairs window after it hadn’t fit through the front door, and had then unsuccessfully tried to manoeuvre it down the stairs while the decorators tossed one hideous tile after the other out of the bathroom, so the couch had taken up residence in mom’s room while the new bathroom fixtures stood in mine.

I’d had to spend the last couple of nights sleeping in the living room on my inflatable mattress while my mom had her bed back because my bed was stood in the garage while the decorators sorted out the mess that was my room. I figured it had to get worse before it got better, but that didn’t mean I was enjoying living in a building site.

On the plus side, I did have a working TV set up in the living room, so when there was nothing for me to do I could slowly but surely work my way through the last season of Death Note, and the rest of the ground floor was actually starting to look pretty good.

*****

The decorators finally finished after just over a week of living in a complete mess of a house, and my bed had been moved from the garage to my now blissfully normal room. Dismantling the bed frame to put it back together in my room and hauling the mattress upstairs really hadn’t been easy, but I now had somewhere comfortable to sleep.

The first thing I put in my room wasn’t my bed or any other important furniture; it was a framed photo if me and Phil. I’d hung it on a nail that I’d hammered into the wall myself, miraculously without flattening any of my fingers.

I hadn’t let myself think about Phil much in the last few days, the huge number of distractions around the house helping me keep my brain on other topics, but I couldn’t help thinking about him again when I stopped and looked at the photo. It didn’t do his eyes justice - the camera hadn’t quite captured their brilliant shade of blue, or the way they sparkled when he laughed, or the pure happiness that always seemed to shine from them.

My brain brought up memories from the last day of school, like when I’d hugged him for what had felt like both an eternity and only seconds at once and the raspberry scent of his hair and how it had felt when it had brushed against my cheek. To say I missed him didn’t begin to describe how it felt to not have him there.

_You need to get over him._

There was just one problem. I didn’t want to get over him; I wanted to be with him.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been half a year since I’d moved house, meaning it was now the Christmas holidays and I was observing my Christmas holiday tradition of alternating between playing video games, scrolling down tumblr and wasting my life away on YouTube while stuffing my face the whole time. I was having a great time procrastinating and postponing all homework and school projects until the last few hours of the holiday. I knew I’d regret it when the time to do the work came but hey, a tradition was a tradition.

Due to going to a college and not joining in the middle of school everyone had been in the same position as me - friendship groups hadn’t been established yet so I’d fit right in and I’d made a few good friends. My new best friend was called Jake, and although we got on great it wasn’t the same as the friendship I’d had with Phil, and it couldn’t fill the hole Phil had left. Each time I started to forget a little another letter arrived to remind me, and each time I came home to find another one waiting for me I felt so horrible because I didn’t deserve to have him faithfully keep writing those letters to me when I’d been such a terrible friend.

I’d been getting one almost every week, every two weeks at most and they just piled up. I’d dedicated a whole drawer to them because I couldn’t bear to throw them away but only two of them had ever been opened. I knew I’d promised to stay in touch and that I’d told him I’d definitely write back, but I just couldn’t do it.

I’d opened the first two that had arrived and even replied to the first, but even in letter form Phil had been able to tell that something wasn’t quite right. In the second letter he’d asked me if I was ok, and I couldn’t force myself to lie to him, and somehow that resulted in me never sending him any letters back. Everything in my everyday life was fine and I’d been coping with the move and the loss of all of my friends quite well, but losing Phil wasn’t something I managed to handle quite as well.

I’d taken out blank sheets of paper countless times with the intention of writing him a letter back, even just to say hi and reassure him that I was indeed still alive, but I was too scared to despite how much I wanted to talk to him. I’d finally managed to start getting over him, and it would kill me if I fell in love with him again. He lived too far away, he didn’t feel the same was and he would probably hate me if I told him.

_He keeps sending you letters though, even though you haven’t spoken to him in half a year. That has to count for something._

It did count for something - a good friendship. While that was great and had made me really happy in the course of the five years I’d known him, moving away had given me the excuse I needed to end our friendship. I’d always told myself that I was perfectly happy being just good friends, best friends even, but it hadn’t been enough. Of course I wouldn’t have forced him into anything but staying friends with him when I needed more had killed me a little more every day, sometimes even reducing me to a sobbing mess because I couldn’t cope with being so close to what I wanted but unable to have it.

So the replies stayed unwritten and the letters stayed unread. Although I’d finally started to get over him my belief in that was too shaky for me to be willing to test it out. I didn’t plan on touching those letters until I was completely certain I was safe, and maybe not even then, but I wouldn’t ever get rid of them either. Proof I wasn’t quite over him I guessed, and I was certain that I would always have a soft spot for him in my heart regardless of what happened.

*****

I was happily watching one YouTube video after the other while steadily shovelling crisps into my mouth when the bell rang. I paused the video I was watching and glared in the general direction of the front door, hoping the person would go away so I wouldn’t have to get up to answer the door. When the bell rang again I sighed deeply and moved my laptop onto the couch, grumbling to myself. If this turned out to be some carollers or someone wanting to ask me a tonne of questions for some sort of Christmas questionnaire I would probably resort to violence.

The number of times I’d had to get up to go answer the door only to find a bunch of kids singing out of tune on my front step expecting money was far too many for my liking, but every time a small voice piped up in the back of my mind telling me that this time it might actually be important and that I should probably get up and go answer the door. It was never important, but that didn’t stop the voice telling me to go answer the door every time anyway, sounding suspiciously like mom.

I shuffled into the hallway and tried the door, already knowing it was locked and swearing under my breath as I realised I’d have to go upstairs to get my keys. I took the stairs two at a time and arrived at my door panting and feeling slightly ashamed that the simple trip up the stairs had gotten me so out of breath.

I went into my room after a brief pause to regain my breath and flung aside the random items of clothing lying scattered on the floor, looking for the right pair of black skinnies that would hopefully have my keys in my pocket as I cursed my genius self for making the room so messy, making it virtually impossible to find anything quickly. I heard the bell go again just as I finally tracked down the right pair of jeans and dug out the keys, whoever it was pressing down on the buzzer longer this time. Rude.

“Yeah yeah, hang on! I’m coming!”

I went down the stairs quickly and finally unlocked and opened the door, ready to snap at whoever the hell had decided to annoy me by pressing the bell so insistently.

I shut my mouth with a snap and stood completely frozen as I stared at the person in front of me. He hadn’t changed at all, his hair maybe a tiny bit longer, but everything else completely how I remembered it, blue eyes still standing out the most.

I could feel all the feelings I’d been suppressing rushing back and I felt overwhelmed by just how much I’d missed him and how much I still loved him. Not seeing him for so long hadn’t made the feelings disappear, they’d simply been lying dormant, waiting for this moment to come flooding back. Absence really did make the heart grow fonder, the fact that I was having trouble breathing at the sight of him and could barely stay standing was proof of that. I hadn’t even begun to get over Phil, I’d just managed to delude myself into thinking I had.

Something in me snapped and I slammed the door in his face without a word, turning immediately and slumping against it, cradling my head in my hands. Seeing him had been too overwhelming and apparently doing something normal like greeting him or hugging him had been beyond me, so the person I was in love with was now standing outside in the cold. It dawned on me that he might not be waiting patiently on my doorstep for me to figure it all out, so I gathered my strength and stood up to look out through the peephole, not entirely sure what I wanted to see.

If he was still there then brilliant, though it would be too humiliating to open the door now, and if he wasn’t there then I’d blown my chance to talk to him again and he probably hated me now, if he hadn’t before. He’d travelled for God knows how long to see me when I’d completely failed to acknowledge his existence for half a year, despite my constant promises to stay in touch, and when he’d finally arrived he hadn’t even been allowed into my house.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him still in my front garden, perched on the low wall with pen and paper in his hands. Reassured that he wasn’t leaving just yet, I moved back into the living room and went to stand by the window, peeking around the curtain at him and praying he wouldn’t look up.

As I watched him I noticed that his little writing habits hadn’t changed one bit, and somehow that made me feel a little bit better about not staying in touch. He still scrunched up his nose when he was thinking and still stopped writing every couple of sentences to read back what he’d written. He still tapped his pen on the paper when he read through the writing and still tilted his head to the side slightly when he wasn’t quite happy with what he’d written. It was adorable.

About ten minutes later I was snapped out of my trance by him standing up and dusting off his coat, the piece of paper clamped under his chin. He strode over to the front door and shoved the letter through the letter flap, then turned and walked back the way he’d came and away from me. I watched him until he’d walked out of the front yard, then ran to the front door to retrieve the sheet of paper.

I scooped it up from the mat where it waited for me patiently and unfolded it with slightly trembling fingers. I was actually going to read this one.

_My dearest Dan,_

_I’ve thought of a hundred ways to tell you this and pictured it so many times, but I never thought I’d tell you in a letter so I couldn’t see your reaction. However, since I can’t teleport through your door I’ll take it. You no longer talking to me has given me the courage to tell you what I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now, because it can’t get worse than this._

_I always thought I’d start with ‘Dan, I think I’m in love with you’, but I’ve changed my mind now. I don’t think I’m in love with you, I know I am._

_I love you, Dan. I love you more than I thought would be possible, and God it hurts sometimes but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I wish I could deserve you and I wish you would feel the same way, but I guess I can’t do much to change the way things are._

_If you don’t want to see me again then I understand, but part of my heart will always be yours, whether you want it or not.  
_

_All my love,_

_Phil_

I read and reread the letter, every single word slowly sinking in until I wasn’t reading it any more but just staring at one line.

_I love you, Dan.  
_

I thrust the letter aside and yanked the door open, stepping outside and seeing Phil’s slowly shrinking figure almost at the end of my street. I slammed the door behind me and ran after him, not caring that my hair was curly, or that I was wearing and old t-shirt and sweatpants, or that I looked ridiculous chasing after him in my socks. I just needed to get to my Phil.

I reached him, panting a little, and flung myself into his arms when he turned, peppering his face in kisses. I kissed his lips last, my heart flipping over when he kissed me back.

“I love you too Phil, and I’m so sorry I didn’t say it before but I was just too scared to.”

_Kiss._

“I tried to convince myself that I didn’t and being away from you made it easier, but I can’t change the way I feel.”

_Kiss._

“We’ll make it work, even with the whole distance thing, I promise. I won’t ignore you again.”

_Kiss._

“I’m sorry I never replied to your letters; I don’t even know what they say. The idea of opening them hurt too much.”

Phil smiled at me, his eyes shining brighter than ever before, and pulled me in closer.

“It was just me trying to find a way to tell you I love you, so mission accomplished.”

“I love you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END!
> 
> Lol it's such a crappy little story but I'm strangely attached to it cos it was my first one :P other works are much better, go check out my oneshot and drabble collections! (hehehe self promo but go look seriously it's much better)
> 
> Hope you didn't hate it too much and thank you for reading! <3


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